Perchance
by Senka Hitomi
Summary: Five: "Everyone in the village knows who the next Hokage ought to be." ShikaIno one-shot series. Fifth update.
1. Sleepless Nights

Disclaimer: I do not own the series or characters portrayed herein.

* * *

"It's just this once. Once, and then you can go back to your usual princess lifestyle."

"You're lying. You're lying to me, and you're _smiling_ about it?"

"Why would I lie to you about this? What good would trying to lie to you do me? You know better than that. Hell, _I_ should know better than that by now. You'd probably hit me."

"I would _not_… well… not hard. You're such a wimp. And I still don't believe you."

"Fine. Don't believe me. Suit yourself. Troublesome."

"…"

"…"

"Goodnight."

"…"

"Good_night._"

"… yeesh! Che… troublesome woman. 'Night."

"Thank you!"

* * *

Ino Yamanaka lay flat on the ground, restlessly stretching and curling her limbs like a caged animal as she gazed at the foliage above her head, trying to spot a star through the tumble of green and brown, though the shadow made most of it look gray. When that proved impossible, she flipped to her side and stared at the tangle of weeds clumped at the base of the tree next to which they were camped. She tried counting leaves, and when she tired of that, she began to try to distinguish the plants, listing the genus and species off in her head as she recalled the dusty tomes her father kept in the shop, proliferated with drawings of all manner of native and exotic flora. All of these plants were common vines and weeds, found mostly anywhere. Oddly, that thought made her feel more alone than ever.

A soft snort sounded off to her left, and she rolled to face the vast back of one of her teammates. Choji had fallen asleep almost instantly, succumbing to exhaustion after a long day of walking. They had all been drained after such a strenuous first day, and Ino thought she might fall asleep as soon as her feet stopped moving, but that hadn't proved true. Instead, she was wide awake, possibly the only person for miles who was still conscious in the cool air of the summer night.

Choji, she noted, was a composed sleeper. Though he occasionally snored, he rarely moved, only stirring once in his sleep to brush a stray ant away from his cheek. Shikamaru, on the other hand, was the most ungraceful sleeper Ino had ever seen: he sprawled like a child, head hanging limp onto his shoulder with the other arm thrown up over his head to block out the light. His dark hair looked like a part of the forest floor, spiky clumps sticking up without regard for order.

He twitched slightly in his sleep; Ino's breath hitched, irrationally afraid that her silent observation had somehow woken him, but his breathing fell rapidly back into its steady rhythm, and the knot in her chest unfurled.

She twisted again, hugging her arms tighter around her body, though she wasn't really cold. And surprisingly, despite the protests she had voiced to Shikamaru, she wasn't uncomfortable either. She was just… wistful. Her home and her family were far away, and while it wasn't her first mission away from all of that, it was the first that required a night spent out in the open, just the three of them, without Asuma-sensei.

For once in her life, she felt very young.

The silence of the night was broken by the chirp of a cricket. Ino started at the sound, despite the fact that it was still far off. A gasp of air slipped from her lips before she could pull it back, and she curled tighter into a ball, hoping no one had heard.

She didn't want her teammates thinking she was scared, because she wasn't. Ino was nothing if not fearless, a fact she had proved time and time again, often much to the chagrin of her parents, teachers and friends. If there was a challenge to be met, Ino would tackle it head on. It had always been that way, and she didn't intend to start becoming a coward now.

"Ino."

The whisper of her name and the soft touch to her arm was enough to make her heart skip a beat. She shot up, and her shoulder connected with something solid. She heard the quiet groan before she fully realized what had happened, and then Shikamaru was crouched on the ground next to her, a hand pressed to his chest just above the sternum. His face contorted in pain, and he glared at her through half-closed eyelids.

"Never mind…"

Conflicting veins of guilt and anger ran through her, boiling together to create a strange sort of concerned hostility. She scooted closer to him to examine the wound she had inflicted. The beginnings of a bruise were visible just above the line of his collar, blossoming purple and brown against the sheen of his pale skin. Without preamble, she moved the fabric to reveal the full extent of the injury, which, while it looked nasty enough, didn't seem to be serious. The bruise would likely heal in a few days, provided it wasn't aggravated any further.

"It'll be fine, you big baby."

He scowled at her.

"Yes, I accept your apology for hitting me in the chest, Ino." He mumbled, but fortunately, Ino didn't catch the sarcastic remark. She seemed to be preoccupied with something else entirely. She was staring at him with a look of visible perplexity, and the intensity of her teal gaze made Shikamaru more uncomfortable than any bruise ever could.

"What?"

"What were you doing?" She asked. She sat back and folded her arms as she waited for an answer.

"You made a noise." He explained simply, as though that were all the explanation that was required, but when she didn't move to acknowledge his reasoning, he continued. "I thought something might be wrong."

"Oh." The formation of the syllable drew her mouth inward, making her look all the more childlike in the dappled light of the moon.

"Well, I'm fine." She explained after a considerable pause, but a skeptical raise of the eyebrow told her that Shikamaru wasn't buying it.

"The cricket just made me jump, that was all." She amended.

He tilted his head just slightly, with a look that clearly said, 'You expect me to believe that's really all it was?'

When she kept her silence, he shrugged.

"Fine. I'm going back to sleep then." He began to move back toward his pallet on the other side of their camp; his head hadn't quite hit the ground when her whisper met his ears.

"Shikamaru?"

He rolled his head slowly to face her, listening. She looked very small from all the way across the clearing, with her arms folded tightly around her knees and a veil of hair obscuring parts of her face and shoulders. Her light eyes darted all over the place, looking anywhere except at him.

"Would you mind… sitting up for a while?"

Shikamaru didn't offer any answer or protest, just righted himself with a slight grunt, propping his back against one of the trees. She moved quietly to sit beside him, the side of her arm pressed against his.

They sat that way for a long time, both staring out at the night and neither speaking, as Choji's subdued snores rumbled in the background. Ino could feel herself getting weary, the strain of the day finally closing in on her, and the night began to blend together, fading into periods of darkness that got longer and longer. Her head drooped, seeking the warmth of Shikamaru's shoulder, and he didn't move, simply glanced over when he felt it fall and smirked slightly when her eyes fluttered closed, finally succumbing to the peace of slumber. The gentle ghost of her breath over his skin told her that she truly was asleep this time, and would likely remain so until the morning. He was partially glad that she was asleep now, if only so she couldn't see the goosebumps that had inexplicably risen on the flesh of his arm. The question of why was one to be considered later, much later. For now, he had finally gotten his restless teammate to relax, and that was enough.

And despite the fact that he had a feeling he wouldn't be sleeping much tonight, a smile lit his face.

* * *

_A/N: Just a short little oneshot I wrote because I was bored. It's meant to be set sometime in Part One of the series, when they were fairly young. Hopefully it's not completely terrible. _

_ As with all my stories, if you see any glaring errors, please let me know in a constructive manner. I really need to think about getting a beta..._

_Leave a review, if you'd be so kind, and thanks for reading!_


	2. Fever Haze

_Disclaimer: This is not necessarily connected to chapter one. Just a series of ShikaIno stories, related or not as you, the reader, choose to see it. _

* * *

"Don't." Ino commanded irritably. "Just don't even start."

The statement was followed by a hacking cough. Shikamaru didn't bother to respond, just grimaced slightly. There was no use in reiterating what he had already told her a thousand times before.

Choji, not wanting to draw her ire any further, fished in his pocket, retrieving a slightly rumpled handkerchief. He held it out to her tentatively.

Ino looked at it, her eyes glassy. For a moment, she didn't move to take it just stared. Only when Choji held it out more insistently did she finally concede and take the proffered piece of fabric, blowing her nose into it rather unceremoniously.

Choji and Shikamaru exchanged a glance of slight disgust and more than a little amusement, but they held their silence as they tramped through the forest.

The weather had been growing increasingly inclement over the course of their mission. The first day started with a light rain that quickly turned into an outright downpour. By the second day, there was a constant drizzle that left them all miserable and cold to the bone. Ino had insisted, however, that she would be perfectly fine without using one of the regulation jackets they had been given for the mission, and after some half-hearted coaxing, Choji and Shikamaru eventually just gave up on her. When the third day rolled around with a low lying fog, Ino had begun to complain of an itching throat, and the cold had not been far behind.

Now, as they made their way on the last stretch of road toward Konoha, she was getting unbearable. Despite the fact that she claimed her throat felt like someone had rammed a porcupine down it, she continued to persist in occasionally sighing and remarking on how long the journey was taking and how terrible she was feeling. Shikamaru, for his part, had taken to ignoring her.

The sight of the gates was a welcome relief for all three. Even as exhausted as they were, a spring came into their gaits as they took those last few steps.

"I can go notify Tsunade-sama that we've arrived." Choji suggested, looking to his teammates for confirmation. "We can always meet up this afternoon and give her the full report."

Ino heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I feel awful. I'm not sure I could make it to the Hokage's office."

Shikamaru remained quiet, but he had to admit that he was relieved too. He could almost see the clear blue sky from where he reclined on his hill, broken occasionally by a thin wisp of a cloud, could practically feel the sensation of grass beneath his back in the warmth of summer, as he was lulled to sleep by the silence of an empty training field. Just to relax and have time to himself for a few hours… he smiled to himself at the thought.

As their paths split, Shikamaru reveled in the sensation of the sunlight on his face. It may have been a miserable, troublesome mission, but nothing could possibly ruin this day now.

"Oi, Shikamaru."

Shikamaru raised himself sleepily, still caught in the warm embrace of his afternoon nap. He barely even remembered stretching out in front of the tree before he had drifted off.

Choji was standing in front of him, blocking the sun from his view. Glancing at the sky, he realized that it was already a fading orange, tinged with pink. Apparently, he had slept longer than he intended.

"Troublesome…" he muttered.

Choji remained standing, and slowly it occurred to Shikamaru that there was a tinge of worry in his face.

"What's wrong, Choji?"

Choji grimaced. His was one of those strange faces that was not aged by an expression of concern; rather, it tended to make him look even more childlike.

He stumbled over his words for a few moments before finally getting to the root of the problem. "Well, we were supposed to deliver the report to Tsunade-sama this afternoon, and I knew you'd probably fallen asleep here, but I went to look for Ino when she didn't show up, and well…" He wrung his hands nervously. "I can't find her anywhere."

Shikamaru had to control the sigh that threatened to slip from his lips. That troublesome woman was forever causing problems where team meetings were concerned – even when they were genin, she had always been at least ten minutes late to training sessions, insisting that she had to make herself "presentable" in case "Sasuke-kun" ever decided to show his face around the training ground. Not that he ever had – not that he had even ever given Ino a second glance, Shikamaru considered wryly – but she had always sworn that it was necessary.

But when even Choji couldn't find her…

Reluctantly, Shikamaru pulled himself to his feet. He discussed with Choji all the likely places they might find her, many of which Choji had already checked, but he suggested that they do a sweep of them again. Choji would start at her parents' house and work his way through the city to Sakura's. Shikamaru opted to check the more unlikely places – her parents' flower shop, the graveyard where Asuma was buried. If nothing else, having a strategy assuaged Choji's fears, and they agreed to meet back at the tree in an hour if they couldn't find her, and from there, they would develop a new plan.

The flower shop was the nearest location, and while Shikamaru had no idea what would compel Ino to visit the shop on the one day of the week it was closed, he knew that it was one of her more familiar haunts.

When he arrived, the front door was locked, something he had anticipated, but a strange feeling pressed at the back of his mind, insisting that perhaps he should check inside just in case. Thus, he trudged around to the back of the shop and wandered through the rows of blooming buds to get to the back door. It, as Shikamaru had also anticipated, was _not_ locked. The Yamanakas rarely locked the back door, because it required navigation through the labyrinth of plants to even reach it, deterring any would-be thieves.

The back room was cluttered with vases, ribbons and stems, with orders piled high on the desks, some filled, many still waiting to be delivered. Most of them were dictated in Inoichi Yamanaka's precise script, but here and there, he noticed papers that were covered in Ino's curving hand. He noticed one that was a personal order, placed by Ino herself, flowers for a grave. It shouldn't have surprised him – the anniversary of their sensei's death was quickly approaching – but it still managed to produce a pang of guilt in him. He noticed watermarks on the order, and it vaguely occurred to him that perhaps that wasn't dew from some stray stems, but rather stray tears that had made their way to the page.

Drawing his eyes away from the paper with considerable effort, he turned to the door that led to the main display room, which was, strangely, open. As he peered around the sill, he realized why.

A lone figure stood, frozen like a statue in front of a bouquet of lilies. Even from the door, he could see the glassy reflection of her eyes and the red tinges around her nose. She stared fixedly at the plant, but without really seeing it, and she swayed slightly on her feet, as though her center of gravity would not quite solidify.

"Ino?"

She turned to him only slightly when he called her name, her gaze roving over him with little recognition before turning back to the plant.

"Hey, Shika. Isn't this plant pretty?" She murmured, the sleepy words of a child.

He slowly walked to stand next to her. Even being this close to her, he could feel heat emanating from her, and when he reached out a tentative hand to touch her arm, it felt as though her skin were on fire.

"Ino, what are you doing here?"

"I needed to come." She said matter-of-factly. "Asuma-sensei needs flowers."

The simplicity of those words shattered something in Shikamaru. It was almost as though they were still genin, and Ino was filling an order for Asuma to bring to Kurenai for one of their dates. Making a great effort to keep his hands from shaking, Shikamaru put a hand on her shoulder.

"Ino, you need to go back home. You have a fever."

She didn't protest. She simply turned toward him, her gaze still vacant, and leaned her head against his shoulder, as though her previous thoughts were all but lost. By the time he got her to the front door, she was practically unconscious – when she took the first few stumbling steps into the street, he realized that this would be a much simpler process if he just carried her. Wrapping one arm around her torso and using the other to sweep her knees up, he lifted her with little trouble. She was lighter than she seemed, and it worried him slightly – had she always been this thin?

She made no protest, too addled by the fever, and he took the back routes to her apartment, not wanting to answer the question of why he was having to carry Ino back home. Her front door was, fortunately, unlocked, so he simply had to twist the handle rather than set her down long enough to search for the key.

Her apartment was mostly empty, save for one bowl and glass that sat in the sink, which he guessed must have been from earlier in the day. He passed the kitchen and carried her down the hall, to the very back of the apartment where her bedroom was situated. It was the only room that even looked vaguely lived-in. The sheets were rumpled, and clothes were thrown over one of the chairs. Various perfumes and make-up containers littered the bureau, and Shikamaru suddenly got a better idea of why it had always taken her so long to get ready for training. With that many options, you could probably spend a year going through them all and still not come to a decision.

With as much care as he could, he leaned over to deposit her on the bed, doing his best not to wake her, but it proved to be in vain. The sensation of falling apparently awakened something in her half-conscious mind. An arm reached up to latch around his neck, burning into his skin.

"Shika?" She murmured, and he paused, afraid to let her go for fear that her death-grip on his neck would dislocate or break something.

"What is it, Ino?"

Her eyes flickered open for a moment, and she smiled at him, a genuine smile, not teasing, or sarcastic, or any of the countless other emotions he saw played out on her face every other day.

She lifted her other hand to his cheek, and despite the fact that it must have been scorching against his skin, he couldn't feel it. He was only aware of that beguiling, sweet smile, the one directed specifically at him.

"You've always taken such good care of me." She muttered quietly, and before he was aware of what she was doing, she leaned forward, pressing her lips gently against his jawline. It was only an instant, and then she was once again slumped in his arms, pulled back into sleep by the fever. She likely wouldn't even remember the occurrence the next time she saw him.

But Shikamaru would. He finished lowering her down onto the bed and turned to leave, his mind whirring in too many directions at once.

He gave her one last glance before he left the room – he would have to go tell Choji to stop the search – glancing over her familiar form in the half-light of the sunset.

"And if I can," he muttered quietly, though he knew she couldn't hear. "I always will, troublesome as it is."

* * *

_A/N: So I've decided to turn _Perchance_ into a oneshot series. I just couldn't help myself. _

_I've been suffering with a cold myself recently, so I figured, why not channel my suffering into something that can at least be appreciated? _

_Hope you enjoy this second installment, and I'll be updating sporadically as different ideas pop into my head. If you have any ideas, feel free to suggest them in reviews and I might just write them!_


	3. The Right One

His hand clasped hers, and he leaned in slowly to kiss her.

Ino closed her eyes, trying to tell herself that she wasn't regretting this.

He was still smiling when he pulled back, and his eyes flicked over the subtleties of her facial features, made prominent by the half-light of the moon.

"I had a great time tonight, Ino." He tilted his head slightly as he looked at her, maintaining that alien gaze of a man bewitched.

"Mhm." The noise squeaked out, just a pitch higher than she had intended, but he didn't seem to notice it.

Ino was finding it harder and harder to maintain eye contact under the weight of that fixated gaze; it was stifling. Had her chest always been this tight?

"I really like you, you know." His fingers moved to stroke a stray strand of hair away from her neck, and she suppressed a shudder, hoping that he couldn't feel the way her skin was twitching beneath his touch. "We should go out again, sometime soon."

"Definitely." The words slipped from her mouth before she could swallow the syllables –he grinned.

"Great. I'll see you Saturday, then?"

She just nodded, not trusting her betraying voice to handle any more of this conversation. Every inch of her itched to be just on the other side of the door, where she could be herself, away from that gaze that _wanted_.

Finally, mercifully, Haru released her hand, kissing her cheek before he finally took his leave.

Ino, for her part, couldn't get into the house fast enough.

With the door closed behind her, she sank against the wall, her head pressed between clammy palms. _What_ was wrong with her? Why had she even said those things that she knew weren't at all what she'd wanted to say?

And why did she feel so guilty for not wanting them?

Because, she admitted to herself, she'd thought for a while that she did. For weeks, this boy had been the center of her thoughts, the subject of every other conversation she had with Sakura. She had practically driven her best friend insane with her exaggerated sighs and complaints that Haru would never notice her. And now that he had, she was starting to wish it had never happened.

She peeled away her heels, slowly righting herself and flipping the light switches as she proceeded to the back of the apartment. The further she got, the more she felt a weight being lifted from her chest, as if the idea of being near him were a physical burden, alleviated only by solitude. She shook her head as she turned the corner into the bathroom, pulling her hair down from its customary ponytail and examining herself in the mirror. She looked a mess, and he'd said she looked beautiful. Who was really the crazy one?

_Me_, she thought bitterly. She turned on the tap, testing the water before she splashed it into her face. It was frigid, filtered directly from the spring nearby, but the cold was welcome, refreshing even.

The droplets brought away a mass of oils and powders with them, leaving streaks of black and fleshy tones across Ino's cheeks. She scrubbed at the stains, managing to eliminate most of them, but a few stubborn lines of mascara clung to her lower eyelids, making her look as though she hadn't slept in a month. She gave one last half-hearted swipe, but it was relatively ineffective. Exasperated, she left it as it was and retreated to the comfort of her couch.

She wasn't sure how long she had been wallowing in her thoughts when the knock sounded. Fresh terror jolted her back to the present, and she had to quell the shaking in her hands just to get a solid grip on the door handle. Steeling herself to see Haru's smiling face on the other side of the door, she opened it with as much courage as she could muster.

"Hey, Ino."

Ino had never been so relieved to see anyone in her life.

Shikamaru was leant against the doorsill, dressed in his standard mission uniform, examining her doormat with apparent disinterest. He came inside at her gesture, setting his pack just beside the door. Ino noticed it immediately, her curiosity piqued.

"Are you headed out?"

Shikamaru, having already made himself comfortable on her couch, fished in the inner pocket of his flak jacket and pulled out a thin scroll that distinctly resembled a mission assignment.

He held it out to her. "We are."

Ino skimmed over the hastily written document. It was a B-rank intelligence mission, one that required the particular skills of the Yamanaka and Nara clans. It looked fairly standard, but she grimaced as she noticed the time they were expected at the location.

"Really?"

Shikamaru barely shrugged, as though even the simple motion took too much effort. "Troublesome, I know, but Tsunade-sama insisted we follow that schedule."

"So, did you come by to tell me we're leaving _now_?" She stared at him incredulously, settling herself into the chair across from him. She curled her legs up beneath her like a child; the posture was one she'd never quite been able to shake.

Shikamaru took a moment to answer. She watched as he formed the response, his eyes distant, his thoughts focused some problem she could never comprehend, or perhaps not dwelling on anything at all. With him, it was impossible to tell.

"No, that wasn't what I intended. The schedule she's given means we'll have to leave early in the morning – if we left now, we'd be there far too early." He gestured lazily to the pack by the door. "I just figured you wouldn't want this sprung on you at three in the morning. Better to tell you now, that way we can just leave from here."

Ino nodded slowly, the logic coming together in her head. Shikamaru knew, probably better than anyone aside from their other teammate, how dangerous it was to wake her for an early mission without prior notice. The last such incident had produced a sizeable bruise and some severe tongue lashing for a particular lazy genius.

"Alright."

She let the room lapse into silence. Shikamaru, sedate as ever, didn't seem to mind. He simply stretched out on the couch, settling himself in with the ease of someone who had spent many a night before a mission inhabiting that very spot.

It took a few minutes for the weight of the silence to affect him. Cracking one eyelid half open, Shikamaru glanced at his teammate. He frowned as he noted her tightly coiled posture, saw the tautness in the muscles of her face and neck, a tension that only indicated one thing.

"What's wrong, Ino?" The inquiry came out naturally, as familiar a motion as a sigh or a cough. She looked up when he spoke, her doe-like eyes blinking too innocently.

"Hmm?"

"Troublesome." He muttered. "Ino, you might as well tell me what's bothering you before we start the mission, so at least I'll have some idea why you're being so moody."

Ino shook her head again, mouth gaping open. "I don't know. I'm just not feeling like myself, I guess."

Shikamaru raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I had a date."

"Hn." Shikamaru grunted knowingly, as if that statement explained everything. "So what's wrong with this one?"

He should have expected her volatile reaction, but he was too tired to block the swat to his arm.

"Why do you always assume _I'm _the one who finds problems with them?"

"Because you're _Ino_," he drawled, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

She gave an exaggerated frown, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Well?" he persisted.

"I don't know, Shika." Ino sighed, wrinkling her nose. She blatantly ignored the grimace he gave at the nickname. "I really thought I liked him!"

"But…?"

"But… it's just…" She spread her hands in front of her, as if the answers would somehow spring from her outstretched palms. Maybe if they did, she wouldn't make such a mess of things. "I know I won't keep him around. It's only been a few dates, and already I'm finding reasons why he's not good enough, that he doesn't meet this imaginary standard of mine. And just a few weeks ago, I thought he _was_ the standard!"

"So have you broken his heart yet?"

The question was so stoically delivered that it took Ino aback. She blinked at Shikamaru, who didn't meet her gaze, staring instead at the vast white expanse of the ceiling.

"I… I can't." She looked down, clasping her hands into fists, tight enough that she could feel her nails digging into the skin. "Because, if I do that, I'll just be admitting that I screwed up. Again."

"Hmm." Shikamaru considered it quietly. "Sounds troublesome to me. But it's not like keeping his hopes alive will do either of you any good."

She couldn't deny the truth in that.

"Next week. Once I get back from the mission, maybe. Then…" Her stomach flipped at the prospect. Already, she could see it in her mind's eye: his confusion, and then anger. The scornful gazes of the people who knew about her flirtations with him, who would now think that she'd just been stringing him along for her own ends. She could see the word forming on their lips, behind her back, but still close enough to reach her ears.

_Slut._

And she would never be able to explain to them that she hadn't been meaning to lead him along, that at one time, she had possessed feelings that were comparable to his own.

That she wasn't culpable for the crimes of which they accused her.

Glancing back over at the couch, she saw the regular rise and fall of her teammate's chest. The soft whistle of a snore shortly followed. Pulling a throw from the back of the chair, she gently laid it over him. He didn't even stir.

Was it really so bad, she wondered, to search for an ideal? Maybe her obsession Sasuke at the Academy had set the standard too high too early on, maybe there was no way to get past the rejection of the handsome genius.

But, maybe, she considered, watching her teammate slip deeper into sleep's clutches, maybe there was something to it. Perhaps it wasn't too much to want someone who didn't just want you, but understood you.

And perhaps, she thought, the reason was more obvious than it seemed.

Unable to resist the stray strand of hair that had fallen across his forehead, Ino moved forward to stroke it toward the rest of the hair, her hand lingering just an instant longer than it should.

A shiver of a different sort overtook her, and Ino turned away from the image of her teammate sprawled out on the couch, the familiar etches of worry that so often lined his face erased in unguarded slumber.

Maybe the reason had always been simpler than she thought.

* * *

_A/N: Bit more of a contemplative one-shot. I'd love to hear what you all think about it! _

_Thanks for reading! _

_- Senka_


	4. One Short Sleep Past

_A/N: Since I had my friggin' heart ripped out with that last chapter… Seriously, Kishimoto? :/_

_Spoilers for Chapter 613. Takes place after the Shinobi World War._

_Also, to reviewer Airi Shirokuro, who requested a chapter on cloud-gazing, I incorporated the idea somewhat in this one, but I'll plan for another one-shot with that theme, that perhaps takes a bit of a lighter tone. Thanks for the suggestion!_

* * *

A scattering of low-hanging clouds had settled in overnight, leaving the entire village shrouded in a light, misting rain. The grey haze made cloud-gazing almost impossible, but it didn't stop Shikamaru from trying. Even as the rain soaked through his flak jacket, past the mesh of his shirt and into his skin, he didn't hesitate to spread himself out on the grass.

It had been so long since he'd done this – it felt like a lifetime ago now, a lifetime that belonged to another Shikamaru, the one for whom cloud-gazing was just another facet of daily routine, and not the only respite from the waking nightmare of reality. Now, he vaguely wondered how he had even gotten back here – maybe Madara had succeeded, and this was just a false reality… but even then, if Madara had truly succeeded, should he still be feeling this lethargy, this emptiness? He didn't know.

He shook the thought away. It wasn't the reason he'd come here – he'd come here to get away from all that, if only for a moment or two. He closed his eyes against the somber afternoon sky, letting the warmth and humidity lull him into a trancelike state.

He dreamt the sky was blue, and he was lying in a pasture rather than a training field. The wind rustled the grass around him, and he sniffled as the seeds of a dandelion drifted past, just barely brushing his face. In the distance, a few deer ambled by, grazing with the graceful disdain of animals well-kept.

He heard his mother calling, but her words were mostly drowned out by the hum of life around him, "lazy" being the only intelligible word that came through. For his part, he wasn't overly concerned.

A soft snort came from the figure in the grass beside him, and Shikamaru tilted his head, glancing sideways at the smirking older man. His face, normally so serious, was painted with an expression of sardonic joy.

After a moment, he acknowledged Shikamaru's gaze, returning it in kind. Keeping his voice at a low grumble, he flicked a lazy finger in the direction of the house.

"If you stay still enough, she'll just give up. Best not to try to argue with the woman when she's like this."

Shikamaru fixed his father with a skeptical look, but Shikaku was already on to some other thought, turning his head back to gaze up at the clouds. Shikamaru, bemused, had no alternative but to follow suit.

Overhead, clouds drifted in clumps, a few stray strands darting like fish in the open spaces. Shikamaru tried to form pictures in his head, but after a while, they stopped resembling anything at all – he could only watch as the colors shifted, ranging from the brightest white to a liquid silver that spoke of rain in days to come. They changed with the rays of the sun, gently accepting it and then reflecting it back again to gather away from the light. It was mesmerizing and calming, and Shikamaru wasn't sure he'd ever been this happy before, watching the clouds as the light snoring of his father beside him broke through the buzzing of the air.

"Shikamaru!"

He resisted the urge to groan – his mother's voice was closer. Hadn't his father said that if they just stayed quiet, she would give up?

He closed his eyes. Maybe if he closed his eyes, her calling would just be another bad dream.

"_Shikamaru!_"

They snapped open again. Clearly, that had not been the best strategy.

Tilting his head to the other side, he could see her approaching, her gait one of a soldier on the warpath. Against the sunlight, his eyes played tricks on him – her dark hair looked golden, reflected like a halo against the pallor of her skin. And then he realized.

The woman approaching him was not his mother, but a woman for whom he had equal fear. She marched straight toward him, her blonde ponytail swinging like a pendulum behind her.

"Go away, Ino." He threw an arm over his eyes, willing this to be another part of the dream that he could just wish away.

"No." She stated adamantly. She crouched down next to him, and when her hand connected with his arm to slap it away from his face, he knew immediately that it was wrong, that she was _here_. The touch felt too substantial, too real, and it startled him awake.

He shot up, utterly drenched. At first, he thought it was sweat, but then he remembered the mist, and the whole of reality came sinking back down on him. Gone were the field and the sunshine, the peace of mind. It was spitting rain, and the ground was muddy and his back was beginning to ache. The only thing that remained from the dream was the one thing he wished would just disappear.

"Damn it, Ino, I've told you _never_ to do that," he snapped, pushing her fingers just a bit too forcefully away from where they rested on his forehead. He'd always thought her jutsu was unusually invasive, but this latest innovation was downright unsettling.

Ino seemed unfazed by the harshness of the gesture, settling back into a crouched position beside him.

"Well, you never visit, you never write… what choice did I have?"

The statement came out in a monotone, utterly devoid of humor. She shrugged and her mouth curved at the corners, but Shikamaru wasn't sure if it could be called a smile. It was more like the ghost of an expression he'd once seen her wear, a haunting mockery of a once unquenchable spirit.

"You got my attention. What do you want?"

"Well, first of all, I'd like to know what prompted the decision to become a child of the mud." She gestured with unmasked disdain at the state of his clothes, which were now caked to his skin. "And, ya know, just for kicks, I thought I might like to see my teammate once in a while."

"We're not teammates anymore." He ignored the teasing framework of her questions altogether; it was too troublesome anymore. Once, he had been able to simply ignore it, but now it was grating at him. How could she still be so nonchalant? "You work for the Intelligence Division now."

"Yeah, yeah, and you're the Hokage's right-hand man, but that doesn't mean I can't want to see you, now does it?"

Shikamaru tossed a hand ambivalently; Ino took it as a sign to keep talking.

"I saw Choji yesterday. We had lunch. He seems like he's doing really well, but he says it's been a few weeks since you two got together. I think it'd probably do both of you some good—"

"We've both been busy." Shikamaru remarked shortly. He wished she would just stop talking, at all really, but especially about that. Was she trying to make him feel guilty? The answer to that, he knew, was an indisputable "yes", but she ought to realize that he felt bad enough as it was.

He fumbled with the clasp of his right breast pocket, his fingers searching clumsily for the half-soaked box that lay in its depths. When they finally closed around it, he pulled a roll free, the thin paper resting comfortably between his fingers. Just the feeling of it quelled the shaking in his hands a little, made it bearable, made him forget.

The lighter came more easily out of his other pocket, and despite the rain, he flipped it open, praying for a spark.

He hadn't even gotten the cigarette clenched between his teeth before the force of the slap resonated through his jaw, sending it spiraling into the mud.

Ino fixed him with a glare that stung almost as badly as the growing red blotch on his cheek.

"I thought you were done with those filthy things."

"Old habits die hard." Shikamaru grimaced, holding his jaw – he could feel jagged marks in the skin where her nails had veritably shredded it.

"Like slapping people for no good reason."

She opened her mouth to retort, but no sound came out. Finally, she just looked away, her expression distant, almost remorseful.

"You just shouldn't." She mumbled.

They sat in silence for a moment or two, Shikamaru holding his smarting cheek and Ino gazing up at the sky, what little could be glimpsed through the misty veil. When she spoke again, her voice had lost its edge.

"I went to visit your mom today. Brought her some flowers."

"Mom does like flowers, troublesome things that they are. Always made me sneeze for weeks."

"She said she really liked them."

Ino paused, and her breath hitched, noticeably enough that it made Shikamaru look over at her. In the dim light, her features had become strange – she cleared her throat with great effort, and her normally thin face looked unusually swollen, as though she were holding her breath, anticipating. When she finally continued, he realized why.

"I never thought—" She stopped again, and put a hand to her throat, as if that would dispel the lump that had formed there. "I'd never seen Yoshino-san cry. Your mom, she always seemed so… rock solid, ya know?"

Ino gave a watery laugh, and it made Shikamaru's stomach churn.

"I never—" Her face contorted strangely, and Shikamaru realized it was with great effort that Ino was even producing any sound at all. No tears fell, because she was holding them too tightly. "Never thought I'd see the day. I always figured it would be my mom – she was always a crier, at weddings, at births, you name it. But she's been so… so calm, about everything, and it's good, because it means I can be calm too, but I just—your mom…"

She gulped, but a gasp of air escaped, and the floodgates loosed. Shikamaru could only stare, too ashamed to move.

It took Ino a few minutes to compose herself, but she did, wiping her eyes and slowing her breathing, until the irregular hiccoughing sobs gave way to deep, regular inhalations. When she looked back at Shikamaru, the only remnant was a slight swelling around her eyes and blotches of pink that slowly faded back to the normal alabaster of her skin.

"I'm sorry." She smiled at him, and this time it was more real, even laced as it was with sorrow. "I'd almost gotten through an entire week, you know."

Shikamaru had to look away from her

"Two days."

Ino blinked at him, visibly confused.

"Pardon?"

"Two days." He croaked again, wondering if he could blame the sudden faltering in his voice on being out in this inclement weather. Though, with the admission he was giving, he somehow doubted that would work. "You're doing better than I am."

Two days ago, Shikamaru had never been gladder that he lived by himself. When the wave of grief had finally subsided, it looked like a tornado had ravaged his apartment, and he was still finding remnants of the destruction even as late as this morning. It had always been that way – when he felt defenseless, he forgot himself.

"You'd think after Asuma-sensei…"

He trailed off, shaking his head.

No. Truth be told, he didn't ever think he would get used to it.

He barely reacted when her hand slid into his, clasping it so tightly that he could almost feel the blood pulsing through her palm.

"No, I wouldn't think. Shinobi or not, we're never prepared for this."

"I thought I told you to get out of my head, troublesome woman." He muttered, and he could hear the chuckle rise through her chest, bursting out like a caged bird.

"I just can't help it. I mean, there's so just so much empty space and breathing room—"

He gave her a skeptical look, and she dissolved into quiet giggles, collapsing into his side. When the laughter subsided, she didn't shift away.

"Do you think they were afraid?"

Shikamaru considered it for a moment.

"Always. They had us, didn't they?"

"Mhm." She nodded against his arm.

"Do you think they regretted this? Becoming shinobi?"

Ino was quicker to respond.

"Never. Not for one moment."

She paused.

"Do you?"

* * *

The afternoon stretched into evening, and the mist ran its course, slinking slowly away across the fields and through the hills. It took nothing with it, leaving remnants here and there among the houses and the trees.

But mostly, it left its mark on the two shinobi still stretched out on the training field, staring at the sky until it darkened to nothing but tiny specks of light.

* * *

_A/N (again) : *cries* Seriously? SERIOUSLY?! I guess that makes about half of my stories AU now... Gah. (Okay, I know I'm freaking out quite a bit about this, but... for goodness' sake, I have an entire story that revolves around the original Ino-Shika-Cho! They're amazing and Kishimoto just... sigh. I guess it was time for the torch to be passed, but did he really have to pass the torch and then send the former torchbearer(s) up in flames?)_

_Drop me a review, if you don't mind! I really love hearing what my readers think, even if it's just a few words. Thanks for your continued support!_


	5. Seeing the Obvious

Shikamaru resisted the urge to put a fist through the surface of the table in front of him. Admittedly, even if he tried, it would probably only result in bruised knuckles; it had been that kind of day.

This evening, like many recently, he found himself in the archives of the cryptology division. He couldn't quite be sure when the habit had formed; he supposed it had begun a few months back, the day he'd had a particularly harrowing meeting with some of the delegates from Kiri. Afterwards, frustrated and not inclined to return to his empty apartment, he had gone on a walk, which had somehow up at the cryptology building. Shiho had been more than happy to let him into the archives, and once he was there, he set immediately to work, pulling tome upon tome from the shelves, exposing their secrets, cracking long forgotten codes. The task required every ounce of his brain power, which was an immense relief. While he was solving a code, there was no room for the messy deliberations of everyday life; just the simple logical process, the rhythmic scratch of his pen in the dusty silence, the suffusing triumph of understanding the last piece of a cipher.

When Shiho finally got his attention, she had reluctantly informed him that closing time for the archives had, in fact, been three and a half hours ago.

Eventually, as each frustration drove him to the archives, he found it to be a calming ritual, one that almost infallibly saved him from pacing the length of his apartment like a caged animal.

_Almost._

Poking her head around the corner of a shelf, Shiho adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat before venturing to speak.

"Shikamaru-san, do you need anything?"

Shikamaru glanced up at the clock. He had been here for almost five hours, since early this morning, and had made practically no progress. Shiho wasn't one to hover, but she did have an apparent knack for determining when something was wrong. Was his frustration really so palpable that she could sense it all the way from her office on the other side of the building?

He waved a dismissive hand, grunting his answer. Shiho took the answer for what it was and slunk back to her desk.

Shikamaru felt slightly guilty for sending her away so tersely; Shiho was incredibly competent at what she did, and unfailingly helpful. But if he was fully honest with himself, sending her away without opening his mouth was probably the best thing he could have done. If he opened his mouth now, there was no telling what would emerge.

Tapping the paper in front of him with frenetic impatience, he stared at the symbols, trying to make sense of his own notes. It was to no avail. The characters swam across his vision, buzzing like flies, swarming inside his skull.

He scowled. The silence of the archive did little good when the distraction was coming from within his own head.

Yesterday hadn't started out badly; the Hokage's first appointment had been cancelled, leaving time for discussion of a new trade proposal from Yugakure. From there, however, the day had just spiraled downward. The second meeting of the day was a disaster, resulting one of their major weaponry suppliers walking out without coming to a settlement. Then they'd gotten word that the Chunin candidates from the Sand had gotten delayed in their journey, which meant pushing the schedule back by at least two days. And on top of all that, there was _the_ matter.

"I-I'm not sure he really wanted to see anyone." The sound of Shiho's stammering brought Shikamaru back to reality. Who on earth was she talking to? During the practically four months he'd spent holed up in the archives, only two other people had ever bothered to come in here, and both left just as quickly.

"What are you, his receptionist? I don't care if he doesn't want to see anyone, I _have_ to talk to him!"

Shikamaru frowned. Of course.

_Troublesome…_

"I really don't think that's a good idea—" Shiho's protests were abruptly cut off, and the intruder's voice was getting closer.

"Well, good idea or not, he'll just have to deal with it."

On cue, a pale figure in purple emerged from behind the shelves, green eyes blazing, blonde hair swishing imperiously behind her. Seeing Shikamaru, she came to a halt, which caused a very frazzled-looking Shiho to crash into her from behind.

As Ino attempted to recover her balance from the collision, Shiho began a fumbling apology.

"I'm sorry, Shikamaru-san. I know you don't like to be disturbed, but she insisted and I couldn't stop her!"

Ino glared over at the girl, but Shikamaru shrugged indifferently.

"No big deal. Ino, what do you want?"

Shiho, though still clearly distressed by the intrusion of this boisterous stranger into her quiet archives, gave a defeated sigh and turned to go, though not without a significant look at Shikamaru. He, for his part, noticed none of it, having turned back to the paper in front of him.

"Have you heard?" Ino skipped pleasantries entirely, rushing to lean over Shikamaru's shoulder. "You ought to have heard, of all people."

"Ino," Shikamaru sighed. He disliked people reading over his shoulder, and she was entirely too close for comfort. "I've been here all morning. If it happened then, I haven't heard anything."

"I know that." Ino emphasized, annoyance seeping through in her tone. "I've only been looking for you for three hours. I've been all over this stupid village looking for you! It took me ages to figure out that you were here. At least now I'll know where to look for you next time."

"Great," muttered Shikamaru. Fortunately, Ino didn't hear him.

"Thank goodness this wasn't a matter of life and death. I'd be dead five times over by now if it were."

Shikamaru bit back a retort that he was sure would have evoked a reprimand from his teammate, if not a blow to the head.

"_Anyway_," she continued, "you can play dumb all you want, but we both know you have to have heard about him."

Shikamaru closed the book in front of him.

"You _have_ heard." Ino pulled up a chair next to him, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Then you'll also know that they're actually considering his bid."

Shikamaru looked over at her, trying to gauge how much she actually knew. From the hungry look in her eyes, she had the information from a secondhand source, and was itching to get confirmation.

"I was in the Hokage's office when he came into discuss it."

Ino squealed. Quietly, since they were in the archives, but it made Shikamaru wince nonetheless. A noise that high-pitched shouldn't be able to come out of a human.

She scooted forward, clutching his arm. Once again, Shikamaru mentally reminded himself not to get out of his teammate's good graces. She might look delicate, but the solid grip on his arm proved otherwise.

"So it's true then!" Her green eyes glinted for a moment, but then her face took on a more serious cast. She sat back, her grip on his arm slackening.

Still, she didn't quite release it.

"But it doesn't make a lot of sense." She looked to Shikamaru for confirmation, but he merely raised his eyebrows, so she continued. "Kakashi-sensei was _just_ named Hokage. Unless Sasuke's bid is the veiled threat of a coup, they shouldn't be looking to replace him."

Shikamaru studied his teammate for a moment. Though she made her statement assertively, there was the barest hint of uncertainty in her features, as though a small part of her was bracing against something. Over the years, it was something Shikamaru had begun to notice. Though he was the acknowledged genius of their team, Ino was no slouch either. But for some reason, she expected him to… what? Call her an idiot?

"They wouldn't be, normally." Shikamaru explained when she didn't say anything else. "But you know what happened the last time they tried to make Kakashi the Hokage."

"Well, I know he didn't want—" Ino stopped, the realization sinking in.

"He doesn't want to be Hokage. He never has. So they're already considering his replacement. And everyone knows Naruto has wanted to be Hokage forever, but with them considering Sasuke's bid… wow."

Shikamaru shrugged, reopening the book.

"Sasuke-kun as Hokage…" She contemplated. "It'd certainly be interesting."

Shikamaru gave an undignified snort, trying to turn his attention back to the cipher. If he could just figure out what this symbol stood for, maybe…

"Shikamaru?"

"What?" he said gruffly, tapping his pencil against the desk.

"You're going to put a hole through the table if you keep tapping your pencil like that."

He looked down; a small dent was beginning to form on the smooth surface.

"Tell me what's wrong." She demanded.

"Troublesome." He muttered.

"Shikamaru Nara." She barked. "You will tell me what's wrong this instant. Or do I need to go ask your mother?"

Shikamaru lowered his head to the desk. "You wouldn't."

"I would and you know it!" she chirped, smirking at him. "I'm sure Yoshino-san would just love to hear from me about how her son has been moping around, holed up in the cryptography division…"

She stood up and put her arms on his shoulders, leaning down so that her long ponytail tickled his cheek. "Now, what's going on in that genius head of yours?"

He sighed.

"Sasuke becoming Hokage would be a disaster." He said simply. "The village needs a leader they respect, and his crimes can't just be erased. Sure, even I can't fault him for taking Danzo out, but the fact remains that he was going to destroy the village at some point. Naruto can preach all he wants about Sasuke being reformed, and you and Sakura have been singing his praises since we were genin, but I _don't_ trust him."

Ino's grip on his shoulders suddenly went slack, and as close as she was, he could practically feel her tense up. She took a few steps away, her back to him. Even without seeing her face, he could tell he'd said something to set her off.

He waited a moment, but she didn't turn around, so he stood and walked over, sighing. He reached out a hand, but she flinched away.

"Don't you dare touch me."

A flash of anger flared in Shikamaru's gut, so quickly it surprised him.

"If you're mad because I don't trust your precious Sasuke-kun—"

She whirled on him.

"How _dare_ you, Shikamaru. How dare you think that's what this is about!"

Shikamaru was too bewildered to offer a response.

Meanwhile, the commotion had attracted the attention of Shiho, who poked her head around the corner.

"There is no yelling in archives." She said sternly, glaring Ino down. Shikamaru had never seen her so assertive. "I could kick you out, you know."

Shikamaru considered letting Shiho carry out her threat for a second, but Ino's last statement gave him pause. As much as he didn't enjoy being yelled at, he did want to know what this was about, if it wasn't about Sasuke.

"Sorry. We'll keep it down, I promise." He smiled ingratiatingly at Shiho, who immediately blushed. Grumbling slightly about unwelcome patrons and something that sounded distinctly like "_he deserves better_", Shiho made her exit.

He turned back to Ino, who had sunk down into his chair.

"Now, explain."

She shook her head, not looking at him. Strangely, she wasn't even pouting as she usually did.

"I can't believe you."

Shikamaru resisted the urge to shake it out of her.

"Ino, what did I say?"

She turned to him and stood slowly, her eyes flashing with hurt.

"You really think I _trust_ him? After all he did? Sure, I had a crush on him, and I was surprised to see him on the battlefield, but he's a _criminal_. I'm not a complete idiot, Shikamaru. I know who ought to be the next Hokage."

Shikamaru retreated to his chair and sat back down, sufficiently cowed. Had he really suggested that? But then again… he had. And, in retrospect, the thought that Ino trusted Sasuke over her own teammate made his blood boil.

"Of course." He said calmly. "I should have known you'd realize Naruto was the better choice."

Ino looked at him, an ironic smile on her face.

"That wasn't what I said either, baka. Sure, Naruto has the drive, and he's talented, but it would take months to train him to do all of the paperwork." She sighed, taking a seat again. Though she was clearly not over her fit, Shikamaru could see her anger slowly dissipating. "Everyone in the village _knows_ who the next Hokage ought to be, not that he'd ever accept it.

"And not that I'm even sure now that he ought to be, if he's always this dense."

Ino brought up a hand and flicked him in the forehead. "Baka."

Shikamaru stared at her receding hand.

"Me?"

"Of course you." Ino said flippantly. "Shikamaru, everyone knows you're smarter than those two put together, and even if you are completely dense sometimes, you ought to put that head to good use."

Shikamaru didn't have a response to that. Sure, he had recognized a long time ago that, like his father before him, he would probably make the candidate list one day, but in the midst of everyone else's declarations, it had never occurred to him that anyone else actually though he _should_ be the next Hokage.

Ino shook her head and stood up.

"Well, I won't disturb you any longer. Go back to your ciphers."

Shikamaru didn't even bother to offer a goodbye. He was fairly certain she had already left when a form leaned over his left shoulder. A slender finger pointed to a symbol in the right margin of his notes.

"You do realize that if you just start with that symbol, you can easily figure out the rest of them. I can't believe you didn't see it. It was right in front of you the whole time, baka."

Shikamaru stared at the paper in front of him, dumbfounded. It couldn't have been more obvious if it had jumped out of the paper and bitten him.

"Oh," Ino added, leaning forward so that she was speaking directly into his ear.

"And if you ever think that I'd choose Sasuke over you, you're even more of an idiot than I thought."

Before he could even react, she pressed her lips to his cheek, lingering for a moment before she pulled away.

By the time Shikamaru recovered his mental faculties, she was already gone. He scanned the book for a moment longer, then closed it, leaving his notes on the desk.

Shikamaru had to admit that Ino was right about one thing: sometimes he really couldn't see what was right in front of him.

* * *

_A/N: ***Just a note:** Just because I wrote this about Shikamaru being considered for the position of Hokage DOES NOT mean I endorse it in canon, okay? It was a plot device, and while I think it makes sense that Shikamaru, as a genius strategist, would be somewhere in the lineup, I am perfectly okay with Naruto becoming Hokage. Just to clarify. 'Kay? Kay. (Sasuke, on the other hand...)*****_

_I originally intended to make this a slightly more serious one-shot. Somehow it devolved into this. Oh well. I enjoyed the ending result, and hopefully you all will as well!_

_This was inspired somewhat by the recent manga chapters, and Ino and Shikamaru's respective reactions to Sasuke's reappearance. Personally, Shikamaru shares my sentiments exactly._

_Please review and let me know what you think, and if you enjoy these one-shots and haven't read my other work, please go check out my other ShikaIno pieces and give your opinions! _

_- Senka Hitomi_


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